Like much of coastal New York and New England, we had a wild night, with hurricane-force winds and pounding rain. This morning things seem to be settling down, but the streets are littered with leaves and vote-for-me! signs; the placid bay is boiling over the jetties; trees are writhing in the wind; and emergency vehicles keep flying by on their way to some crisis or another. Schools are closed, and many people have no power, though all we've dealt with here in the doll-house are a few flickers. I am hoping that all is well at Alcott House. It's in a big-old-tree neighborhood, and the worst could happen there.

Fingers of sun are beginning to wriggle through the mist and the storm clouds. The light has a thunderstorm clarity, as if we might see a rainbow at any moment. A few dogs and walkers have emerged from hiding, and two dozen seagulls are solemnly strutting over the park grass, like Legionnaires at a welcome dinner.

Inside the doll-house the windows are still creaking in the gale. I'm tempted to go outside with the dog walkers, and maybe I will. I do love a big wind.